The Little White Bunny
by Evergreene
Summary: Sam doesn't believe in the Easter Bunny. Dean does though.


**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Supernatural. And I just took my best guess on the ages and heights of everyone's favourite brothers so please don't sue!**

**A/N: A response to P. L. Wynter's Dumb Monsters challenge. Weird as this is, hope you enjoy!**

(**Off the point a bit, to anyone waiting for the new chapter of In Imladris and wondering how I dare post a fic in another fandom, I'm still working on it but should hopefully have another LOTR one-shot up in a few days)**

**Summary: Sam doesn't believe in the Easter Bunny. Dean does though.**

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**The Little White Bunny**

"Screw you," Samuel John Winchester grumbled at his brother, swiping at the spot where one of the peas which belonged to his brother's lunch had struck him squarely in the forehead.

Dean merely grinned back at him from his seat in the roadside motel diner. "Now, Sammy," he replied, twirling his catapult, which bore a strong resemblance to a spoon, between his fingers. "You know you shouldn't be so rude to your big brother so near Easter."

Sam looked at the man sitting opposite him with his eyebrows raised. "It's Sam and why is that exactly?"

"'Cos otherwise the Easter Bunny won't bring you any eggs."

His younger brother rolled his eyes disbelievingly. "There are so many things wrong with that sentence that I don't even know where to start."

Dean pushed his now empty plate away from him and leant back in his seat. "Try me, college boy."

Ignoring the taunt, Sam folded his arms and leant forward over the table. "For one thing, it's Santa Claus who won't bring presents to bad children, not the Easter Bunny. For another, neither Santa nor the Easter Bunny actually exists."

Dean nodded slowly, fixing his green eyes on his brother. "Santa doesn't, I'll give you that one. But you may want to rethink your opinion regarding Mr. Bunny, bringer of chocolate."

Sam shook his head firmly. "Uh-unh. No way. I do _not_ believe in the Easter Bunny."

Instead of replying, his brother changed the topic abruptly. "Where were we last week, Sam?"

"In California, killing a vampire."

The older hunter nodded triumphantly. "This is me resting my case," he said serenely, sure of his victory.

Sam however, was not so willing to admit defeat. "That's completely different," he argued.

"How?"

"Vampires were human once. They were created, they didn't just spring out of kid's stories."

"Look. Sam. I'm not saying I can give you a detailed explanation of the origin of the Easter bunny, 'cos it might not be all that pretty. All I'm saying is that he's real."

"No, he isn't."

"Yes. He is."

Sam shook his head defiantly. "There is no way you're going to get me to believe in the Easter Bunny."

A smirk crossed Dean's face. "Why's that, Sammy? You believed in the Tooth Fairy pretty easily when you were small. Or smaller, I should say."

"Dean, I'm taller than you are, remember? And anyway, you left me ten bucks under my pillow. Who wouldn't believe in the Tooth Fairy when she had given them that much money?"

"That's completely besides the point," Dean replied, waving a hand dismissively.

"What is?" asked Sam, a grin starting to form on his face. "The fact that your little brother is taller than you are?"

"Shut up, _little_ _brother_, I can still pin you if I want to."

"Yeah, right," Sam scoffed. "I would just walk away and you wouldn't be able to catch up on those short little legs of yours."

"Dude, I'm six foot one."

"How nice for you," Sam deadpanned. "I'm six five."

Dean fixed his brother with a dark look. "I like you better when you're all moody and sulking."

"I don't sulk."

"Sure you don't."

"Jerk."

Dean let out an exaggerated sigh. "Come on, Sammy, you can do better than that! How 'bout you try for a bit of creativity with your insults sometimes, huh?" When his brother just continued to stare at him, obviously not impressed, Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine then. Be like that, bitch."

The two brothers paused in their conversation as the grey-haired waitress came to collect their plates. Even Dean was reluctant to carry on a conversation about the existence of a rabbit that delivered chocolate eggs to good boys and girls every year in front of a cynical-looking woman who looked as though she had dealt with enough stupidity from members of the male gender for several lifetimes.

However, as soon as she had returned to her place behind the counter, Dean let out a sorrowful breath, a mournful look in his eyes as he gazed at Sam. "You know," he said sadly. "You are a lot more sceptical than you used to be, little brother. _Sammy _would have believed in the Easter Bunny."

"I'm twenty-two now, man-"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"-and you're twenty-six!"

"Exactly, Sammy." Ignoring the usual 'It's Sam' protest, Dean straightened up in his seat and pointed a finger at the younger man. "I'm older and therefore wiser, which means that I'm right and you're not. Respect your elders, that's what I always say."

"No you don't."

A pained expression traversed Dean's face. "Just pretend to agree with me for once, would you? It would make my life so much easier."

Sam shrugged. "Whatever, man, but I still don't believe in the Easter Bunny."

Dean frowned, his forehead creasing slightly, then glanced at the other hunter. "Get up."

"What?"

"We're leaving."

"Now?"

"Now."

Pulling a few notes from his wallet, Dean slapped them on the table, then, considering their current financial situation, took one back again and slipped it into his front pocket. He stood up, strode around to the other side of the booth and grabbed his little brother's arm.

"Come on, O Disbeliever."

Sam tried to shrug off his brother's iron hand. "Get off me."

"Nope." Maintaining his firm grip on the other man's forearm, Dean pulled Sam out of his seat and out the rattling door which swung shut loudly behind them as a bell jangled in discordant harmony. "You really need to work out a bit, man," he commented offhandedly as he pulled the younger hunter along behind him.

Sam jerked his arm loose. "Bite me. Where are we going?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out." Reaching his beloved car, Dean opened the passenger door, released his brother with a shove, then strode around to the driver's side. "Get in."

Realising that there was no way that Dean was going to be dissuaded when he was in this particular mood, Sam rolled his eyes and folded his long frame into the '67 Chevy Impala that his brother treated better than he did Sam.

They pulled away from the roadside diner, Metallica blaring out the windows and Dean tapping his hands on the wheel in time to the drum solos.

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Nearly two hours later, the Impala drew to a smooth halt at the side of the road, next to a winding dirt track that led into a thickly wooded forest.

"We're here," Dean announced, getting out of his car. When his brother made no move to mirror his actions, Dean strolled around to the other side and bent down so that his head filled the open window.

"You coming, or not?"

"I still don't get what you're planning on showing me, 'cos the Easter Bunny does _not _exist."

"Show's what you know. Now come on, it'll be dark in a couple of hours."

Heaving a resigned sigh, Sam clambered out of the car and followed his brother into the forest, deciding that a walk would let him stretch his legs, at least.

Over an hour later, he was beginning to regret his decision. "Are we there yet?" he inquired of the solid figure walking determinedly ahead of him, hands in pockets to ward off the growing evening chill.

"No," Dean replied. "Not yet."

Five minutes later, Sam tried again. "Are we there yet?"

"No," was the answer, shorter this time. Sam grinned.

This time only a minute passed before the four words echoed into the developing darkness. "Are we there yet?"

"No, dammit, and if you ask me that one more time I swear I will knock you out, tie you up, carry you back to the car, shove you in the trunk and not let you out until we reach Mexico, at which point I will dump your sorry ass over the border, you understand me?"

Sam mock-saluted to his brother's back. "Sir! Yes sir!" he barked.

Dean just growled and continued on, beating back the increasingly thick undergrowth with the sleeve of his leather jacket. Catching sight of a large, rather prickly branch, protruding over the barely existent pathway, he happily let it swing back behind him and was rewarded by the satisfying sound of his little brother's surprised yelp.

Finally, Dean drew to a halt in front of a small sandy-brown cliff, formed out of earth and a few large rocks. Sam, who was following narrowly on his heels to avoid any other stray branches, almost ran into him, only just managing to bring himself to a halt before they collided.

"There," the older Winchester said triumphantly, pointing at a round black opening in the steep rise. "Look in there."

"The Easter Bunny lives in a burrow?"

Dean scoffed at his little brother. "He's a rabbit, man. Where did you think he lived, a house?"

Sam raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You're supposedly about to show me the Easter Bunny and you tell _me_ to be realistic?"

Dean shrugged and gestured once more to the hole.

With a sigh, Sam bent down and peered into the gap in the cliff, squinting slightly in the encroaching darkness. He blinked. And stared.

A big empty hole stared back at him.

Sam withdrew his head and swivelled round to gaze at his clearly delusional brother. "You're nuts," he stated, throwing up his hands. "I always had my suspicions, but now I know it's true. My brother," he announced to the silent woods, "Dean Winchester, is totally, utterly, completely and indisputably crazy."

Dean however, ignored him, and shoved his own head into the hole. He stayed that way for such a long time that Sam began to get concerned and took the few steps forward until he stood behind his brother.

"Dean, maybe it's time we get back to the car," he said carefully, not wanting to anger his obviously insane sibling. Dean however, did not move. "It may not be safe parked on the side of the road like that," he added, hoping that the thought of his beloved Impala in danger would deter the twenty-six year old man who had his head stuck inside a dirt hole from spending any longer in said hole than completely necessary.

"I don't understand," Dean muttered, half to himself, withdrawing his head.

"Of course you don't," murmured Sam, laying what he hoped was a consoling hand on his brother's shoulder. "No one understands, do they? It's unfair, I know."

Dean glanced up at his brother. "Are you insane?" he asked bluntly, batting Sam's hand away. "What the hell are you talking about? It was there I swear it. Last year, to this very day, at this exact spot."

"Maybe you got the wrong hole," Sam suggested, turning and beginning to walk back to the car, deciding that his brother's state of mental health was as solid as it had always been. Then again, he considered, that was not exactly a comforting thought. As he shrugged off the disturbing notion, an evil grin formed on his face. He was going to milk this event for all it was worth. "There is another possibility," Sam called back to Dean, who was still staring at the hole in dumbfounded consternation.

"What's that?"

"Maybe, just maybe, the Easter Bunny doesn't _exist_!"

"He does so!" Dean retorted angrily, knowing that this little incident meant that he would be subject to weeks, if not months, of jokes about little white bunnies hopping along. Muttering a curse under his breath, he turned to follow his little brother back to the road, boots stomping rather louder than usual on the carpet of leaves which covered the forest floor.

"And don't sulk!"

Dean just growled.

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"Whoa!"

The squeal of tires against tarmac mixed with a sharp jerk forward against the seatbelt startled Sam from his restless doze, which had been filled with images of a huge white rabbit with big pointy teeth towering over him, demanding that he be nicer to his older brother. Pushing himself off the dashboard and rapidly thanking whoever was watching over the two of them, Sam swung round to Dean furiously.

"What the hell was that about!" he demanded.

Dean however, did not answer, but instead pointed wordlessly through the windscreen at the dark road in front of them.

Fighting to control his anger, Sam stilled as a ripple of shock swept through him. There, only metres in front of the black bonnet of the Impala, lit by the beaming headlights, a somewhat larger than average white rabbit was moving swiftly across the road. On its two hind legs. With a small woven basket clutched under its arm, full of brightly coloured eggs.

Sam gulped.

Dean grinned.

"Told you so."

The End

**Ok, admittedly that was a bit weird. Oh well, it was fun…wasn't it? Reviews are very welcome! Happy Easter!**


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